Blue sky, wet earth scent, boots crunching gravel. Wind tang..
Added 2025-03-13 22:02:03 +0000 UTCBlue sky, wet earth scent, boots crunching gravel. Wind tangled my hair, stole my beret—sent it flying to ducks in the pond. Bargained with a drake for it. He quacked, I laughed. Truce.
Walked thinking: women are spring. Sunshine and storms, laughter through unexpected tears. We carry worlds but lose hats to birds. Magic is being awkward, wise, alive.
💬 Your turn:
If your soul was weather—what’s today’s forecast?
